This sprawling 21-track album is the work of the Birmingham, Alabama-based duo of Brad Armstrong and Buzz Russell, recorded with the help of twenty guest musicians. The tunes flow along like a dark folk-rock river, almost silent as it whispers over a bed of mossy pebbles, and aggressively noisy as…
It’s no small dividend of evolution when a band is able to grow up and realize it no longer needs to cram its records full of the summer-stock trappings that got it where it is now. Early Fields of the Nephilim was a misunderstood, barely listenable post-Lemmy fetish targeting lonely…
The Austrian duo of singer Silvia Ryder and guitarist Ben Bohn have obviously listened to a lot of Velvet Underground albums. If Moe Tucker had fronted the Velvets, they might sound like the Sugarplum Fairies, with their minimal drums, droning guitars, and Ryder’s world-weary vocals, a breathy whisper that’s barely…
It is not unusual to find a veteran artist’s latest offering touted as an auspicious undertaking and hailed as a milestone, especially when given the anticipation of an album long overdue. However, in the case of roots rocker Alejandro Escovedo’s The Boxing Mirror, those pronouncements are well warranted. It comes…
Girl groups always seem to have a knack for attracting attention, although sometimes the reasons could be considered suspect. Looks often have a lot to do with it, and it says something about our sexist society that women with a musical pedigree don’t always make an impression based on ability…
Continuing to create a buzz for its debut release, the 305’s own Mayday drops this neck-snapping single, riding a skittering keyboard pattern, along with the soul-powered Cee-lo on the hook and Craze delivering those funky, cuchillo-like cuts. In an ode to Bill Murray and Office Space rhetoric, the duo shows…
DJ Vadim, the Russian turntablist who’s part DJ Krush, part DJ Shadow, and all musical revolutionary, has teamed up with the amazing New York MC Blu Rum 13 and Yarah Bravo, the petite Swedish-born Chilean/Brazilian MC/songstress whose smooth lyricism can be compared only to that of the great female rapper…
Imogen Heap describes her music as “living and breathing.” That’s accurate, if you imagine a world where every word is alive with electro breathlessness. As the vocal half of the unlikely sensation Frou Frou, Immi (as she’s known) received the coveted Zach Braff seal of approval and tracked big in…
For the past couple of years, as we near the dreadful Florida summer, nothing comes as close to “good omen” as a brand-new Baby Calendar release. Seriously, the group’s saccharine goodness helps combat the humid heat that takes over the Magic City and, though not substantially proven yet, might actually…
Elefant’s Diego Garcia definitely ripped a page from the Morrissey book when he crafted both his songs and public persona. Like Morrissey, the natty, reed-thin frontman deliberately cultivates an aura of mystery — a previous performance at I/O had some audience members speculating as to whether those were bandages on…
Before the grillz-and-bills lyrics of modern hip-hop, there were the socially relevant teachings of Public Enemy. Before the abrasive thumping of reggaeton, there were the rich vocals of Benny Moré. But Orishas’ genre-splicing music follows no predecessors; the Cuban trio is unique in its endeavors. Roldán González, Hiram “Ruzzo” Riveri,…
Bobby Macintyre’s musical career began in prehistoric South Beach, where he and friends ran rampant through the Delano Hotel in the days before Ian Schrager. They lived in the penthouse and rehearsed in the mostly deserted ballroom as birds flew near the high ceilings. His pal Dennis Britt ran a…
A key measure of a hip-hop album’s effectiveness is the level of envy it evokes. At the least, listeners should come away impressed by the rapper’s dexterity and moxie behind the microphone; at the most, they should wish for even a fraction of his or her lyrical skills. Spank Rock…
The music of Oakland, California’s Moore Brothers is like a poison ivy leaf: bright, green, sparkling, and likely to get under your skin and make you itch and twitch. Their close sibling harmonies bring to mind the adolescent wail of the Everlys, and although their angelic harmonies can be soothing,…
Like baked, cheating poker buddies, California beat rearranger Nobody (Elvin Estela) and Mystic Chords of Memory (Christopher Gunst, Jen Cohen) mesh perfectly on Tree Colored See … in a blend of acid-trip high jinks and astute drum sampling. Though Gunst might be better known for his desert ditties as the…
Mesmer-techno fever dreams for the goth date who absolutely, positively must get seduced overnight. The latest collage of roborotica from the French band of nymphomaniacs, Die Form, is the group’s sexiest yet, even with less playing time for liane. Billowing with regal airs, “Morphosis” glowers with primo samples pinched from…
With five studio albums, the Stereophonics have garnered a sizable following in their native UK while managing only marginal stateside success. At this juncture, a live offering would seem the right move, both to consolidate their fan base and to retrench after recent personnel shakeups. Live from Dakota will likely…
Mike Skinner is a complete and utter fuckup, according to the Streets’ third full-length, The Hardest Way to Make a Living. Sure, banging on about fame, the perils of celebrity, and the rock-and-roll cliché is self-indulgent. And maybe we normal mortals will never truly empathize with blokes like Skinner who…
“Apocalyptic” probably felt like a pretty sweet jam when Mountain Con was in the studio, and within an anything-goes context, it works. Exposed to the open air, though, it’s just plain embarrassing. DJ scratches, barnyard sound elements, funk, and sad white-boi rhymes (that one would expect Anthony Kiedis and Beck…
Languis crowds a lot of great stuff into a small, enclosed space here — a steady bass-drum beat; a jumpy bouncing-ball bass line; a muscled, shoegazing Wall of Sound; doubled vocals encased in a vapor trail of echo. Then the group ups the ante, slipping in disco guitars to give…
With the president’s popularity slipping to uncharted nadirs, the time was finally right for the Dixie Chicks to charge in with an unforgiving, unrepentant anthem that rebukes their censorious critics and doubles as an anthem of pride for anyone else who refuses to buckle…
The feathery and the massive collide neatly here, as braided clumps of nimble, lively guitar are immersed in churning, rapidly rising growling-amp waters. Halfway through the track, blaring, iron-ore-pylon riffs jut in, obliterating everything that came before — perhaps a miniature allegory of humanity’s merciless drive for progress supplanting nature’s…
